Master of Space and Time: Leon Russell

“I love you in a place where there’s no space or time…”

As I drove around town last week, I heard A Song for You by Leon Russell on the radio. I haven’t heard that song in years and years and it grabbed my heart just like it did decades ago. Others have covered this song, but no one does it like Leon.

I later found out that he passed away in 2016. I had no recollection of that and I’m so sorry that I didn’t know because I always loved his music, That was the same year that we lost David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Prince, Leonard Cohen, and George Michael! Can you imagine the loss of all that talent? Crazy.

In fact, I sort of recalled seeing him in concert –-once upon a time — and texted my friend that I used to go to concerts with (she’s the one who reminded me of the time I jumped on the stage to see Jim Morrison) and she totally remembered that we HAD seen him perform.

Back then — before smart phones — no one regularly documented each and every moment of their life, so I have to rely on my memory (or hers).

I’ve been listening to him on repeat for days; his voice was mesmerizing (he was gorgeous, too, with those beautiful eyes), and the story of how he lived and died nearly in obscurity because of poor life choices and poor health — is tragic.

In 2011, thanks to his good friend Elton John, he was inducted into both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Songwriters Hall of Fame.

Even before he became famous, Russell had a career as a first call session pianist, performing with everyone from Frank Sinatra, Dylan, Streisand, The Rolling Stones, and The Beach Boys.

“Russell was music’s North Star, pioneering a distinctly American sound that changed the career paths of stars, including Eric Clapton, George Harrison and Elton John. He created a band that became one of music’s most legendary live acts; made Mad Dogs & Englishmen, for Joe Cocker; stole the show from a white hot lineup of artists at the Concert for Bangladesh; became a star in his own right with solo albums that featured songs that became standards, including Song for You and This Masquerade; and inspired the icon Willie Nelson to create his enduring outlaw country persona.” https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/mar/05/he-was-central-to-music-history-the-forgotten-legacy-of-leon-russell

Featured image photo credit to The Daily Beast via Pinterest

Elusive Butterfly of Love

I spent the day in the gardens, front and back. Neighbors dropped by to chat and comment on our beautiful weather in anticipation of much needed rain.

One neighbor recently got a sweet Golden Retriever that spent too many years at a disgusting Amish puppy mill and is now living her best life. A few minutes later, a young couple walked by with a newborn, their first. Kids rode by on their bikes and e-bikes on their way to play tennis at the park.

It was a wonderful, happy, Southern California kind of day, and I got a lot of work done, filling up three yard waste cans.

Even the butterflies seemed to be more active than usual, perhaps trying to sip as much nectar as possible before the rain or a southerly migration. I tried to snap some pics but they absolutely wouldn’t stay still long enough!

It made me think of that really old song, Elusive Butterfly. It’s beautiful, sad, poignant, even melancholy, but there I was, chasing that elusive butterfly — I could so relate.

Imagine how happy I was to learn that my fave Leon Russell played piano on this song, along with Henry Diltz (Banjo), Carol Kaye (Bass), and Hal Blaine (Drums). I had no idea!

Here’s previous butterfly photos, and these guys knew how to properly model.

I’m still obsessed with the lyrics of Elusive Butterfly

You might wake up some mornin’
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind
And if you’re quick enough to rise
You’ll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone’s fading shadow
Out on the new horizon
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings
And if the sleep has left your ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

You might have heard my footsteps
Echo softly in the distance through the canyons of your mind
I might have even called your name
As I ran searching after something to believe in
You might have seen me runnin’
Through the long-abandoned ruins of the dreams you left behind
If you remember something there
That glided past you followed close by heavy breathin’

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

Somewhere Over the Rainbow Bridge

After yet another too real lucid dream about my kitty Bandit, I’ve been thinking about all of my children, from Misty to Tawny to Sabrina, Yenta, and Stella Rondo (named for a character in a short story by Eudora Welty) to Victor, Blackie, darling Ban — cats and dogs, mostly Border Collies, but also my rescued wolf hybrid Beowulf (of course) and crazy Tovah, my neurotic black German Shepherd.

I can’t wait to meet my babies again; happy and healthy. It’s going to be HEAVENly.

This post seems like a perfect place to share a little Leon Russell, Over The Rainbow…

Art by Susan Alison